The King is Dead
by youllstartariotbarbarella
Summary: He keeps time with the scorch marks on the bottom of his shoes. ONE-SHOT


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A note on what this is: So I have no idea what the spinoff holds but I know Elijah is going to be in it. So I thought I'd write something somber for him. So for those who have decided not to give a toss about the spinoff or the spinoff spoilers they recently said there's gonna be a witch named Sophie who is trying to start a revolution. **

**So I took some liberties.**

**Warning: character death. **

* * *

Elijah was not a king of that he was certain. Kings set fires. Elijah watched. That was how he kept time. Though sometimes it was sickness that scorched the earth, turning the streets into graves and men into hunks of bloated diseased flesh. In 1349 they carted the dead away like manure. Other times it was an idea, a belief and the mad men who followed them that turned the world to ash. When the church burned heretics at the stake, Elijah scoffed and sipped wine. Sometimes it was revolutionaries, martyrs and angry men who set the world ablaze. He been there for the French Revolution and the rebellion afterwards. Blood had lined the streets. Even decades after when he visited again, he could see it still, here and there, between the cobblestone and stained on ancient brick. Elijah could only shake his head at such a waste. He had witnessed the atom bomb, people boiling and bursting into ash, the rise and fall of the Berlin Wall, Hitler, Stalin, revolts, protests, science, philosophy. All those grubby hands scrambling in the dark reaching for any bit of power they could find or some place to stand. He laughed at them.

He could be like a plague and sweep through towns, cities, countries if he wanted. He could burn men, women, children and spit on the ashes. He could stain the streets with blood, build cities, make gods and kill gods. Elijah could feel the earth turn.

But he was not a king. Kings have heirs and thrones and castles. Kings have things that someone can burn. Kings die. Klaus was a king but Elijah was not. When the witch had his brother pinned down, white oak poised above her head, Elijah had the strangest feeling that he had been there before.

"You don't have to do this, Sophia," he said smoothly unwilling to plead.

He's Elijah Mikaelson and he does not plead for anything. The witch scoffed at him. Elijah knew then that he would snap her neck in his hands.

"Don't call me Sophia," she spat.

He admired her tenacity, at least. Her kind was not made to serve kings just as he was bound to never be one. Though perhaps he was just drawing mendacious parallels as some kind of cold comfort to hold him through til the end of the inferno. Because he knew deep down that she (Klaus as well he supposed) were not at all like him. She was revolution; she was change. She and Klaus were what set the world on fire while Elijah stood aside and watched. But such fire demands sacrifice.

Another parallel, Elijah and Sophie knew how this would end. With his hands around her neck and soot on her hands.

Sophia turned away from Elijah to look down upon her king. She scoffed at the word but suddenly her arrogance ran thin and she shivered as the end drew near. All revolutionaries are martyrs, Elijah knew this and soon so would she. Sophie took comfort in knowing that at least she'd meet the devil with the blood of a king on her hands.

"_Memento mori,_" she said knowing it to be true for all, except perhaps for Elijah.

For Sophie knew that even gods must die but she was sure that Elijah would not. He was of his own, a singular being that not even death would touch. She pitied him. Plunging the dagger down into the heart of her king she sealed her fate. When the flames started, Elijah was glad that there was no one else to see his brother's indignity. Till the very end he struggled against the darkness just like all kings before him.

"The king is dead," she said dropping the bloody stick to the ground, "long live the -"

She managed a smile before he snapped her neck. When it was finished, Elijah looked around and sighed. Another fire set. Another tick mark on the wall.

The world burned and Elijah watched.

* * *

**as always. tell me how you want to kill me for writing this piece of butt jelly.**

**love,  
bri**


End file.
